The Poodle Guy
by Lin M
Summary: Kim Legaspi watches news TV in San Francisco on 20 November 2003.


**Author's Name**                Lin

**E-mail**                                lin.morris@btopenworld.com

**Title**                                   The Poodle Guy

**Category**                           Angst

**Rating**                               No idea, as I have never before written a story with no sex, violence or swearing.

**Spoilers**                            For ER S10.8 "Freefall"

**Summary**                          Kim Legaspi watches news TV in San Francisco on 20 November 2003

**Complete**                           Yes

**Other**                                 Aeris Jade Orion set a somewhat similar challenge at Whatever_Weaver_Wants in Autumn 2003, and though this story goes in a very different direction, her    challenge provided the impetus. Written 18 December 2003.

**Disclaimer**                       

The characters and setting of ER are the property of NBC, Warner Bros., Amblin Entertainment and Constant C Television.

**THE POODLE GUY **

_"… and over to Richard for an update on the Chicago hospital helicopter crash. What's the latest?"_

"Well, ok, you bring the pumpkin pie. No … no Kate, I didn't mean it like that. C'mon, cut me some slack here. It's just not my favourite."

_"The cause of the crash is unknown, but eyewitnesses say there were strong gusts of wind when the helicopter was taking off. We're waiting on the hospital spokesman here, but at this moment in time, I'm getting unconfirmed reports of possible fatalities on the ground. As you can see behind me, the earlier blaze is under control and the Fire Dept is working to clear the wreckage. Meanwhile, the injured and all other patients have been evacuated and are receiving  treatment at Mercy and Mt. Sinai."_

Arranging Thanksgiving at her place for a dozen was starting to look like a bad idea. Kate's disembodied voice yapped in her ear.

_"And the Chief of the Emergency Room - do you have any more for us ?"_

"It's just the news. In the background. Yes. Yes of course I'm listening to you."

_"Police here are telling me that the reports of fatalities on the ground are as yet unconfirmed. Repeat: unconfirmed. But the ER Chief has not been seen since shortly before this terrible tragedy in which eight people have already lost their lives, when a Medevac helicopter crashed into the ambulance bay here at Chicago County General hospital earlier today."_

Inviting Kate was starting to look like a bad idea, but hey, Kate had been an integral part of her life in San Francisco since she moved here two and a half years ago. She always - well, nearly always  - well, ok, except for that once - stayed on good terms with her ex-girlfriends because lesbians did. She did. Just because the sex was over, didn't mean you had to stop being intimate with women who knew you from the inside out. She guessed Kate hadn't fully accepted it yet, and resolved to make an effort.

_"Thank you Richard. We'll be joining the police press conference live in two hours' time for more on the Chicago helicopter crash. The helpline number for relatives is 555 - 131 - 1649. Back after the break."_

"Cheesy Puff, Cheesy Puffs, I love Cheesy Puffs", exulted the TV.

"I do know about junk food _thank you_",  she said, sharpishly, into the receiver. "And FYI sour cream and chives chips are not on the menu for Thanskgiving. What kind of a slob do you think I am?"

That was supposed to be an effort to be nice, Kim Legaspi, she told herself, so she sucked it up while Kate told her exactly what kind of a slob she thought Kim was.

Later, much later, when she'd finished checking her IRS forms, she went back into the kitchen for a glass of wine. Private practice could be a son of a bitch sometimes, even if it meant she would never be under the power of a homophobic boss again.

Kim examined the wine rack carefully. One bottle tempted her, but there would be no more Pinot Grigio where that came from, as the summer fires had burned out the winery. But she was celebrating, so why not.

She didn't bother with the TV, though it was about time for the Press Conference from Chicago County General. It was obvious which way the story had been headed. She didn't need to hear it. She couldn't bear to listen to the cliches that would have to be trotted out about Kerry Weaver. Dedicated. Good doctor. Well-liked. By all. Condolences. Family and friends.

Well, there were certain things you couldn't say on live TV about the recently departed. Yellow-bellied bitch. Back-stabbing closet case. Rule-mongering, power-crazed, two-faced snake.

Even Romano had behaved better, when push came to shove. Even Romano. He'd been the one who called, backtracked as apologetically as was in his nature, and un-fired her. Not out of decency, but out of expediency or a lawsuit, whatever. Even Christie had never been  able to find out why, back in the days when they were still on speaking terms.

But from Kerry? Not a word. Nothing. All her talk about fighting and getting Kim's job back. HA.

It had taken her twice, but she'd finally learned her lesson: straight girls are bad news.

Which was, she allowed as she savoured another glass of the doomed Pinot Grigio, also worth celebrating.

Later still, she raided the kitchen for some sea-salt and black pepper chips. These had been a ritual when she'd snuggled on the couch with Helen - she thought it was Helen, but it might have been Lori, or Philippa - and slobbed out to watch Friends. There was this one episode she could remember, where one of the guys, Joey, or maybe Chandler, but probably Joey, was telling a story about some famous guy whose name Joey (or Chandler) could not remember, which was the point of his story. They guy the story was about had been originally famous for something else, he'd made or done something really important, but he died in a freak accident when a poodle fell out of a condo window and landed on his head as he walked past underneath, and now every time people talked about him, that's what they called him, The Poodle Guy. 

She drifted slowly back into the lounge, and draped herself over the leather couch in the way several girlfriends had told her was especially sensual. She could acknowledge the truth that memory told her. She poured another glass, to celebrate being in touch with her emotions and her inner self.

A helicopter lands on Kerry Weaver's head, and that's what people are going to remember her for. Nothing else. Not that she had much of a life, or lifestyle. From now on, that sums up Kerry Weaver: a helicopter fell on her head. Helicopter Crash Doc. That's how people will remember her. 

Well, everybody except Kim.

Who had other reasons to remember the late Kerry Weaver.

Kim finished her wine. 

_______________


End file.
